London Fog
by Tr3ble-Maker
Summary: Coffee Shop AU: Eponine's not so willing to admit that she watches the door every day, waiting for Cosette to come in, even if it's only to order her coffee. Eventual Eposette.
1. Chapter 1: I Can Feel My Heart Begin

"Venti iced red eye," Eponine called out, passing the cup to a disheveled-looking man, who barely gave her a cough on his way out, much less a thank you. Biting back her tongue to prevent a sarcastic 'you're welcome" from popping out, she simply took the next cup, marked for an iced green tea.

Grantaire looked no better than she felt as he took orders from people bundled up in their coats against the harsh December air. His monotone voice was almost comical, and the way he glared at the door every time it opened made Eponine laugh out loud. She was glad she wasn't a customer, because that expression could be enough to send someone right back out into the cold.

Once the rush had subsided and no one else was coming in the door, Eponine took the liberty of leaning against the pastry case and sighing, looking to Grantaire. He gave her an eye roll and slumped onto the counter. "If one more person asks for no foam…"

"I know," she groaned.

"Like, it's a goddamn latte, you pretentious asshole. I swear-"

At that point, Combeferre came out of the break room, writing something on a clipboard. Eponine and Grantaire immediately un-slumped, shifting their faces from "the customers aren't around" to "the manager walked in".

Combeferre looked around the store and adjusted his glasses that Grantaire had once described as 'somewhat hipster but mostly ostentatious'. "Slow moment?"

"One of the few," Eponine offered, throwing a sidelong glance at her co-worker, who returned it, eyes widening.

Combeferre walked by them, checking how many pastries remained in the case. "Grantaire, can you grab a few more croissants out of the back?" he called out, marking something.

Throwing his hands up in the air, Grantaire gave Eponine an expression of complete disgust, all unbeknownst to Combeferre. "Sure thing, boss," he said, dragging himself into the back room.

Continuing to check the premises, Combeferre gave a quick once-over of Eponine to check her store-regulated attire. "And how are you, Miss Thenardier?"

"I'm good, how are you?" she replied, knowing very well that he wasn't listening and didn't give two shits about how her day was going.

"Hm? Oh, good." He retreated back into his office without another word.

Knowing that he could reappear at any minute, Eponine grabbed a hand towel and started to clean the counters and the face of the pastry case. She couldn't risk looking unoccupied, not with Combeferre poking his head out all the time and asking pointless questions, like had she made a latte yet today? Or do customers prefer their sandwiches heated or unheated? Or how was she doing today?

The answers were always yes, it's equal, and good.

Grantaire stormed back out with a single croissant in his hand. "There's one fucking croissant left. Hope they enjoy it," he mused, putting it in the case and closing the door. He turned around and pulled a stool out from underneath the counter. "So, doing anything fun after Enjolras comes to take over your shift?"

She shrugged, looking at her warped reflection in the glass. "Just going home."

Hearing his groan, Eponine knew what speech was coming. Immediately, she went over to clean the latte machine, but he followed anyways. "If you would just let me set you up…"

"Then I could find myself both annoyed on a date and annoyed by how terribly you know my taste?" she deadpanned.

"Please, _plenty _of hot girls come through here, Ep, and anyone would love the old 'put your number on their cup' trope." He moved to put a hand on her shoulder, but she ducked away from it. "And who's to say I don't know what you like? I see which girls you stare at and which girls you don't."

"You know I have to look at people to take their orders, right?"

"Yes, but that's beyond the realm of my point."

Eponine leaned over to get the dustpan out from its spot in the corner. "Well, I don't care about your point. I'm perfectly happy single, thank you." _Most of the time. _

The bell chimed on the door. "Can you get that one? I'm just going to finish sweeping this up before Combeferre has my head."

Suddenly he was down beside her, taking the dustpan roughly. "Actually, I think you should get that one."

"Dude, what the hell-"

He looked at her with urgency and a small smirk. "Trust me, you should get that one."

She raised her hands in surrender. "Fine, fine."

Standing up and brushing herself off, she moved to the counter. "Hi, what can I get for you today?"

"Hi, um, grande vanilla latte, please."

Eponine wouldn't have even looked up had the girl's voice not sounded like sugar and honey, but she was glad she did because…wow. A girl with blonde hair, green eyes, dressed in charcoal and pale blue met her eyes and made her feel a little self-conscious of her black polo.

_Stop, this is exactly what Grantaire wanted to happen. _Snapping herself out of it and taking a cup, she steadied herself and looked up again. "And could I get a name for that?"

"Cosette."

"Cosette," she repeated to herself subconsciously. When she realized it, however, she quickly wrote the name, bowing her head to hide her blush. "Anything else?"

"No, thanks."

"That'll be $3.15," she finished, taking the five dollar bill handed to her and tying to remember how to count change without looking like an idiot in front of someone. Thankfully, she managed, and passed Cosette a few coins, careful to not touch her hand.

Still breathing a bit heavily, she turned to start the drink only to nearly trip over Grantaire, who was hiding behind the counter. "So?" he whispered eagerly.

"Oh my god, have you been listening?"

He nodded. "And I'm proud of myself, really. What was that about not knowing your type?"

"Shut up," she hissed, firing up the machine.

"Tell me to shut up all you want. But write your number on that cup," he insisted, peering over the pastry case at Cosette, who was absent-mindedly admiring the artwork on the walls.

"I will not. It's cheesy and she's probably straight or taken or both."

"Fine, I'll do it" Grantaire sighed, making a move for the cup, which Eponine expertly blocked.

Pouring the latte, Eponine glared fiercely at him. "I am not making a move on a customer who's not interested. Now get out of my way, please."

She fastened the lid on and brushed past him, going towards the delivery counter. "Cosette?" she called out, pretending like it was just another name that she had to rattle off every day before going to make a skinny macchiato or whatever.

But this girl had the audacity to come up to the counter, smile and say "Thank you," before she took the cup from Eponine, brushing against her hand. Then she was out the door, where it had begun to snow lightly, leaving a draft of winter wind and a speechless barista in her wake.

"You are so fucking whipped," Grantaire whispered from beside her.

She elbowed him sharply in the stomach. "And you are so fucking annoying."

**A/N: More to come!**


	2. Chapter 2: I Hate to See You Go

Eponine had the morning shift the next day, starting at 5:30 AM. This endeavor, of course, was barely tolerable, even though she had managed to get to bed at 9 the day before. Even worse, she was scheduled to work it with Grantaire. Not that he wasn't one of her best friends, but he would stumble in late and hungover and be completely useless until at least seven, leaving Eponine to fend off the early-morning businessmen and women to herself.

It was her least favorite crowd. They were pompous and well-dressed, and, despite their apparent need for coffee, they looked fully awake. They also wanted all sorts of modifications on their drinks: no foam, extra espresso, low-fat whipped cream, soy milk, the list went on and on. Usually they wanted three or more changes made to the basic latte, and remembering all of them so early made her head throb. It was throbbing now, just at the prospect.

One good thing about Combeferre is that he did allow Eponine to eat from the coffee shop's supply as her breakfast, though, so she unlocked the door at 5:15, throwing her coat in the break room and shaking snow from her hair. Tying on her apron and flicking on the lights, she grabbed a scone out of the case and set it on a dish, then set about making a London Fog. She could hear Grantaire in her head saying how stuck up she sounded and how it was just a fancy name for earl grey tea latte, and how disgusting they were anyways, but she didn't care.

As she popped a tea bag in the water and let it steep, she looked around for the milk and sugar. Before that, she put in half a pump of vanilla syrup from the line of flavored syrups in glass bottles. She had just stirred everything together when the door chimed and the first customer walked in.

Surprisingly, she raised her eyes not to see some middle-aged man asking for extravagant coffee, but Cosette, the girl Grantaire was so bent on her trying to date.

"I thought I was first for the day, but apparently you're the first customer," she laughed with a clear, high pitch.

Eponine offered a smile and pushed the drink to the side. "Nope, just making it to get through the rush before my coworker stumbles in." Considering that she had said to much to someone who was _just a customer_, she grapped her Sharpie and hovered one hand over the cups. "What can I get for you?"

Cosette looked back at the door. "Hm, I have time. What do you recommend?"

As much as she would never admit it to Grantaire, she did feel strangely warm at the thought of Cosette wanting to spend her extra time here with her, even if it was just for coffee.

A mischevious idea came to Eponine's mind, and she gave Cosette a smirk. "How about I make you one of these, and once I get your review, I can prove to my coworker that they're the best drink that ever existed?"

Cosette smiled. "Well, what is it?"

"If I told you, it would ruin the surprise," Eponine said with mock horror at the mere suggestion of telling her the name. Okay, she decided, she could flirt if she wanted to. Grantaire wasn't around to give her an earful anyways, and she would have one more opinion to prove that London Fogs were not just some hipster tea-coffee hybrid that she drank to seem cool and exclusive.

Cosette ran her tongue over her lips (which even Eponine's strong resolve could not deny the attractiveness of) and nodded. "Okay then."

In order to keep her air of nonchalance, Eponine took a cup and paused before writing the name. "Cosette, right?"

The girl who Eponine obviously already knew the name of nodded, staying at the counter and leaning over onto her elbows. Hiding the cup behind the milk carton so Cosette didn't see the tea bag, she constructed the drink as quickly as the steeping time for the teabag would allow her. Taking the bag out and fixing the lid on the top, she passed it over the register, where Cosette was still waiting. Eponine grabbed her own drink, and went to take a sip before Cosette delicately touched their coffee cups together in a "cheers" motion, raising her eyebrows.

Eponine pressed her smile against the lid of her cup and forced herself to not let he giddy side show, focusing herself on Cosette's reaction. At the first, her eyebrows knitted together, but then she took another sip and put it down. "It's good, but I have no idea what it is."

"It's a London Fog, which is basically an earl grey tea latte with some vanilla," Eponine explained, taking another sip of her own.

Cosette nodded thoughtfully. "I wouldn't have guessed that," she admitted. "But you can tell your coworker that he's wrong, then."

Eponine nodded and laughed, studying the girl in front of her. Maybe she had been wrong; whether he guessed or chose carefully, Grantaire definitely knew her type. Still, she tried not to read too much into Cosette being the first one in the place, or that she had stayed to talk – some people were just really friendly by nature.

"I should go," Cosette decided out loud, "I have an early lecture class to get to."

Eponine ignored how her heart fell just a bit. _Of course she didn't wake up so early just to come toy with your affections, she's here for caffeine to get through her classes. I should have seen that one coming._

"See you later!"

Eponine looked back up to find Cosette already at the door. She gave a wave, and slumped against the counter when the door closed. She could already see a woman in a blazer and a trench coat, hurrying across the parking lot to the door. And of course, Grantaire wasn't here yet. She could call Enjolras, but he was probably still asleep. Or she could call Musichetta, but she had early classes too and would likely be unavailable.

Too late. The bell on the door chimed as the woman came to the counter. Before Eponine could even say hello, the woman was rooting in her purse and saying "Venti iced latte, soy milk, half pump of caramel. No sweetener besides the syrup."

Eponine bristled at the command, but didn't say anything as she scribbled it all down on a cup. Another customer walked in behind the woman, and Eponine sighed as she realized it was another day of collecting orders while simultaneously making drinks and trying to ring people up.

_Hope you're fucking happy, Grantaire, _she thought, but she pumped the caramel syrup all the same.

Only half a pump, of course.

**A/N: I'm going to make a playlist for this story soon! The chapter titles are taken from the songs on the playlist. I'll link all of you to it once it's done, probably by the next chapter.**


	3. Chapter 3: Cover Love from Sympathy

Just as she had predicted, Grantaire threw the door open after seven, much too late for his five thirty shift. Surprisingly enough, though, Enjolras was behind him, practically pushing him into his spot behind the counter. Not surprisingly, Grantaire had dark sunglasses on and a sluggish look about him. "I'm sorry…" he trailed off, shooting Enjolras a death glare, "for coming in late."

"Was that so hard?" Enjolras snapped. Coming around to face Eponine, he crossed his arms. "I have the eight o'clock shift, and I texted him asking how the crowd was today." Moving his hands to gesture wildly at Grantaire, who looked rather indignant, Enjolras continued. "Apparently, the text woke him up and he said he wasn't there yet and that he _just woke up_. So I drove to his house, where he's of course hungover, and forced him to come down here."

Eponine nodded, a little apprehensive of just how far Enjolras had gone. If there was one thing Enjolras hated, it was a worker not pulling their weight. And although she thought this particular method was unorthodox, she shrugged. "But you don't have to work for forty five minutes, so-"

"We discussed it on the way over. He's giving however much of his paycheck I work for him until the hangover subsidizes." Enjolras sighed, giving Grantaire a sidelong glance. "Which could go on until even after my shift starts…"

Grantaire straightened up and came over, pointing at Enjolras in an accusatory way. "The keyword here is discussed. No agreement took place where this plan is concerned."

Enjolras didn't seem fazed by the information. "Our other plan is to tell Combeferre that you showed up out of uniform, late, and hungover. Which do you prefer?"

Growling about injustice and blackmail, Grantaire went into the break room to get his apron. Enjolras followed, raising his eyebrows at Eponine.

She watched them go, shaking her head as she waited for more customers at the register. Their friendship confused her to no end. One, Grantaire didn't just get out of bed and drag himself to work willingly for anyone; it was quite obvious to her that he wanted more than a friendship with Enjolras. Two, Enjolras seemed to barely tolerate Grantaire, yet she rarely saw them apart from each other, unless their shifts were far apart. Of course, she wasn't the type to bring it up to either of them, especially not Enjolras; he had a more stoic, reserved personality, and they were more acquaintances that only hung out together in larger groups. Grantaire, of course, would deny it if she asked. It was probably better for her to keep quiet and observe.

When they came back out with aprons and nametags, the process became smoother, and Eponine managed to bring herself out of the hectic morning she had just experienced and settle into a more relaxed routine. Instead of running around and apologizing madly, she simply took the orders and passed on the cup. Neither Eponine nor Enjolras trusted Grantaire with making the drinks themselves, so he went about cleaning and restocking pastries in between his complaints about headaches.

During a quiet period, Grantaire leaned against the counter and smirked. "Oh, Enjolras, I forgot to tell you: Eponine has her eye on a customer."

Before Enjolras could even open her mouth, Eponine turned around. "Okay, you just want me to think she's hot or something so you can tell me that you know my type."

"That's exactly what I want, yes, but now I'm emotionally invested," he admitted. "I started it, and it better end well or you're giving me nothing to live vicariously through. Has she come in yet today?"

Tapping her fingers on the counter, Eponine sighed. "She came in this morning. First one in."

"And what did she order?"

Eponine did her best to hide her smirk. "She asked me what I recommended, so I made her a London Fog, and she said it was great."

Grantaire groaned, clapping his hands over his face. "I retract everything promising that I have ever said about her. Good lord, you think you know someone-"

"You know nothing about her-"

"-and then she comes in and orders that goddamn hipster tea behind my back!" he finished dramatically, flinging his hands away from his face. "Unbelieveable."

As Grantaire continued to act wounded, Enjolras turned towards her. "You're letting Grantaire have influence on your love life?"

"Love life?" she scoffed. "God, you two! I've known her for, what, not even forty-eight hours? We're not married just because you'd like us to be," she griped, shooting a glance at Grantaire, who was still wearing that shit-eating grin that made her want to punch him in the throat.

"For the record, I no longer want you to marry her if she's going to approve your fancy tea drink that tastes like ashes and regret," he pointed out.

A customer came in the door, and Eponine turned back to the register, calling over her shoulder, "I am not done defending my position!"

Grantaire snickered from his lazy perch on a stool near the coffee machine, and Eponine tried to stifle the murderous glare in her eyes as she asked the customer, "What can I get for you?

At the end of her shift around noon, Eponine gestured for Grantaire to take her seat at the register, a request that he groaned at. "You're making me take the human interaction position?"

"Enjolras did half of the time in this spot that you would have," she informed him tactfully, still bitter about his earlier quips.

"And Enjolras is probably receiving half my paycheck for it, so we're even."

She turned and walked into the break room, incredibly frustrated. Although he would never admit it, Enjolras would now be on the lookout for Cosette (who Grantaire had so nicely described for him), and the last thing she needed was both of them harping on her to ask Cosette out.

She wouldn't do it. She couldn't, right? There was enough for her to focus on: university classes, her friends, her job? All of them took up a good percentage of her time. And besides, to Cosette, Eponine was probably just an employee at a coffee shop. An employee who she had had a good conversation with, but an employee all the same.

Eponine would prefer to ignore this thought and how it caused her a substantial amount of pain.

She switched her coat with her apron on the hook labeled with her name and dug her bus pass out of her pocket. Figuring out her schedule in her head, she decided to just go to the campus early and eat there before her creative writing strategy class started.

Before she left, she grabbed one of the pre-made sandwiches from the glass case, waving at Enjolras behind the counter as she pushed out the door, nearly slamming into the person on the other side.

"Oh, god, I'm sorry-" she looked up and broke off when she realized it was Cosette, for the second time that day. "Cosette, hi!" she stammered, before she could stop herself. _If you keep remembering her name, she'll think it's weird._

"Hey! Were you just leaving?" she asked, pausing outside the door.

"Um, yeah, I have an afternoon class," Eponine explained, gesturing with the sandwich container, then deciding to put it in her bag.

"Oh, then I won't keep you. Bye, Eponine!" she waved, going through the door.

"Bye!" Eponine called back out, feeling her cheeks heat up at how Cosette remembered her name. Maybe it was permission to start remembering hers.

She had barely walked out of the parking lot and onto the snowy sidewalk when her phone pinged. Slowing her pace, she pulled it out and opened two texts from Grantaire.

**Grantaire: She ordered your goddamn fancy tea.**

**Grantaire: You're corrupting this city's youth, you know.**


	4. Chapter 4: No More Dreaming Like a Girl

Enjolras was behind the counter when Eponine walked in the next morning at 7 (for once, she had managed to get a later morning shift). He acknowledged her presence with a glance and a nod, an act which was his version of a friendly greeting, then turned back to the line of customers. Eponine raised her eyebrows in response, going straight to the back room. Grabbing her apron and shedding her coat, she looked around for evidence that Combeferre was there. He was rarely in early, but it was still helpful to know whether the boss was lurking anywhere.

Satisfied with the fact that his messenger bag was nowhere to be found, she lazily tied her apron on and took her place beside Enjolras, taking the cups he scribbled orders on and filling them with very little enthusiasm.

Once the counter got less busy and people had scattered onto armchairs and clustered around tables, Enjolras turned to Eponine. "Cosette hasn't been in yet."

She stiffened at the information. "Thanks, but really, no need to keep tabs on her or anything."

"So you're not interested in her, then?"

Eponine decided to remain silent and give a half shrug, which Enjolras definitely wasn't buying. Busying herself with wiping off the counter, she tucked some hair behind her ear and looked at him again. There was still an expectant look on his face, so she gave up and faced him. "I just don't see the point. It's not like she's going to ask me out anytime soon. She barely knows my name, for God's sake."

(She elected to leave out the fact that she resorted to repeating that over and over in her head during class yesterday to stop her mind from wandering to Cosette.)

"Well," Enjolras began, "I think that you should ask her out if you really want to."

Startled, Eponine raised one eyebrow at him. Enjolras certainly wasn't the type to give out romantic advice. "Really?" she asked tentatively.

"There's certainly no point in sitting and waiting for her to come in every day."

She made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. "You'd be surprised at how many times I've said that to myself," she admitted, suddenly realizing that she had basically told him that she did, in fact, think of Cosette that way.

It was ridiculous, really, and she knew it. She shouldn't be watching the door and waiting for Cosette to come in for five glorious minutes. She shouldn't be planning what to say to her when she should be paying attention during class. She shouldn't spend so much time thinking about a girl she barely knew. Daydreaming, smiling to herself – doing those things wasn't very much like her, and she certainly didn't like to admit to them. Hell, she could barely admit it to herself.

Maybe she should have cut herself off from Cosette from the beginning. If she kept herself to polite employee-to-customer small talk, maybe she could go back to when work was just work, not an opportunity to talk to some random student.

"Maybe there's no point," she answered Enjolras, "but it's the only plan I've got right now."

"What if you wrote your number on her cup? That way it's in her hands."

Grantaire had already suggested that, but she considered it. "Maybe. But we all know I'd never go through with it."

He shrugged and turned back to a customer.

Sighing, she took the cup he handed her with an order for a cappuccino. The music playing was smooth and the atmosphere was calm, but Eponine had never wanted to rip something apart more. Somehow, she had gone from someone who never gave relationships much of a thought to someone who sat behind the counter, chin in hands, pining about some girl who most likely didn't give Eponine a second thought. She was acting like a twelve year old, for God's sake.

When she was done making the cappuccino, she poured one shot of espresso and downed it in a quick gulp, grimacing at the bitter taste. Despite her shift starting later, she was more tired than ever.

All of a sudden, Enjolras was at her side, looking to the side. "Alright, so she came in, and I respect your plan to silently admire her, but do you want me to take her order or do you-"

"Don't be fucking ridiculous," she said seriously. "Of course I want to take her order."

Enjolras stepped out of her way, and Eponine silently blessed his existence as she stepped into place behind the register.

She wasn't enough of a hopeless romantic to say that Cosette standing in front of her again was a heaven-sent miracle. It was more like when a ray of sunshine came in her window after a great night's sleep, just enough of a warm presence to make her smile.

_Good lord, maybe I am a hopeless romantic, _she thought.

Cosette looked up after fishing her wallet out of her bag and smiled when she saw Eponine standing there. "I was hoping I'd see you," she laughed, resting a hand on the counter.

This girl could stab her in the chest, and Eponine would probably thank her.

"Same here," Eponine laughed. "What can I get for you?"

"Same as yesterday," Cosette smiled.

Eponine nodded and wrote a name and the appropriate abbreviations in the small boxes on the cup, passing it to Enjolras, who was trying not to look like he was listening.

"So how do you make those?" Cosette asked. "Tea and milk?"

"If I told you, you would stop coming here, wouldn't you?" Eponine laughed.

"Not a chance." Cosette said in a low voice, her lips curling into a soft smile as she passed Eponine a few dollar bills.

_Was that – was she -? _Before she could say anything, Enjolras was tapping her on the shoulder and making discreet gestures at Cosette. It took Eponine a second to figure out that he was trying to get her to ask for Cosette's number.

With a barely imperceptible shake of her head, Eponine turned back to Cosette and handed over her change. "Play your cards right," she started, "and I'll give you my recipe sometime."

Cosette laughed again, then gave Eponine a half-wave before going to wait for her drink.

"So?" Enjolras immediately asked.

Eponine jumped. "God, you're almost as bad as Grantaire with this stuff." Dropping her angry façade after a split second, she whispered, "I think she was flirting with me."

"And?"

"That's it."

Enjolras seemed to accept this, and he turned back to finish the drink.

Nobody else was in line, so Eponine pretended to wipe off the front counter while stealing glances at Cosette, who was looking at the mugs for sale, carefully arranged on the shelves. Her outfits all had the same color palette, cream and grey, and they really suited her. She was just as light and beautiful, really.

Enjolras called out Cosette's name as he slid the cup onto the delivery counter, and Eponine watched as Cosette picked up the cup and seemed to inspect the writing on the side. She then grinned and came back over to Eponine's perch on her stool. "I'm expecting the recipe, then," she said, tapping the side of the cup before she waved and started out.

Confused, Eponine glanced down at the cup and felt her stomach drop immediately.

Her phone number was scrawled on the sleeve Enjolras had put the cup in.

"Y-yeah!" Eponine laughed, her face turning millions of shades of red at once.

Once Cosette was safely out the door, she stormed over to Enjolras and spoke as loudly and harshly as she could without disturbing any customers. "You wrote my number on that fucking cup, didn't you?"

"You said maybe, and that you would never go through with it." He gestured proudly at the door. "And from what I saw, you got a pretty good reaction."

Eponine couldn't even hide the smile that broke through her strong resolve. "I'm still mad at you."

"You can thank me later," Enjolras smiled back.

She had never wanted to punch someone and hug them all at the same time, but it looked like today was just full of surprises anyways.


End file.
